


Hair

by bunnysworld



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:10:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnysworld/pseuds/bunnysworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur needs a hair cut. There's a new salon just across the street from his company. Saves time, doesn't it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1/7

**Author's Note:**

> As always, huge thanks to my dear beta issy, who beats my grammar into submission, whatever I throw her way. I would be nothing without you!
> 
> I don't think this needs warnings aside from: Pure fluff. You have been warned ;) 
> 
> This was posted at merlinxarthur on LJ before. I'm just starting to archive all my stories here, so bear with me.
> 
>  
> 
> There's a sequel now. [ Hair splitting](http://archiveofourown.org/works/846706)

Arthur looked up from his mobile when he entered the barber shop across the street from his company. Getting his hair cut was a necessity, something that had to be done. It didn’t mean that he had to enjoy this waste of time, did it?

A petite girl with long dark hair approached him. “Hi! Good morning, what can we do for you today?”

Her name tag said ‘Freya’, as Arthur absent-mindedly noticed. “Your sign said ‘walk-ins welcome’. Would you have time now?”

Freya smiled at him and looked at his hair. “What needs to be done?”

“A cut?” What did he know about hair? It needed to be washed once in a while and cut more often than he liked. 

“Let me check who’s available.” Freya scanned the room just as a tall bloke with ridiculous black hair that stood out at every end and made his head look three times the size approached. 

“Blond gods, as you know, Freya dear, are my responsibility here.” He smiled widely at Arthur and his blue eyes that were lined thickly with black eyeliner crinkled up. “If you’d follow me, dear.” A gesture that was just as ridiculous as the hair motioned over to an empty seat. 

Blond gods? Dear? Who did that bloke think he was? And what was it with this stupid hair and horrible eyeliner and black nail polish and the leather bands and the all black outfit? And why did he gesture with a limp wrist and what did the nasal camp accent mean? Arthur didn’t say anything, but mentally rolled his eyes. Why did some gay guys always think they had to shove their sexuality into everybody’s faces? But damn, he needed that haircut and maybe that bloke at least knew what he was doing with scissors and a comb?

When Arthur was seated and already pulled out some papers he needed to go over before the next meeting, the man was fussing about, getting things and finally sitting on a small stool and smiled at his reflection in the mirror over his shoulder. “Hi. My name is Merlin and I’ll take good care of you today.”

Arthur had a hard time not groaning. “A simple haircut will do.” And what kind of stupid name was ‘Merlin’? His real name probably was Joe or Tom or Harry.

“There is no such thing as a simple haircut. You’ve got such wonderful hair, you should take better care of it. And why don’t you put those papers down, dear, you’re here to relax, not to work.” 

He had no idea why he didn’t get up and leave right away, but something in the bloke’s blue eyes held Arthur’s attention. “Because I need to prepare this for the next meeting and I’m only here to get my hair cut, not for a spa weekend.”

“Awwwwww, too bad, dear.” 

“And if you would stop calling me ‘dear’, the name is Arthur.”

Merlin, who had picked up a comb, playfully hit his arm with it. “That’s a start, Arthur dear.” He beamed widely. “Let’s take a look at that wonderful golden silk you have for hair.” 

Instead of giving it a quick comb-through, Merlin reached out and ran his fingers through the hair. He lifted some strands here, examined some ends there and hmm-ed and frowned once in a while. Arthur looked at him uncertainly. What was this? He needed a haircut. Not a count of each and every of his already too-thin hair. “So, are you going to cut it or what?”

“You know, you have rather fine hair and it’s very dry, your scalp is totally stressed. What products do you use?”

What products? “Err…shampoo in the morning.” 

Nodding knowingly, Merlin kept on running his fingers through Arthur’s hair. “No conditioner? No treatments once in a while? You know, you could just put conditioner in and then wrap a towel around your head while you work on those papers of yours in the evening.” Merlin winked.

How on earth did he know that he continued his work as soon as he got home? And why on earth would he put some product in his hair and wrap a towel around it and sit about with a towel turban for hours? Ridiculous. Couldn’t he just cut the hair so he could get out of here to never return?

“Listen, can we just continue? I have a meeting in an hour.”

Sighing dramatically, Merlin rolled his eyes. “Always in such a hurry, you business folks. Okay, Arthur, let’s get to work and make you even more gorgeous.”

He fastened one of those large cloak thingies around Arthur’s neck and led him over to the sinks.

Just as Arthur pulled out his mobile, Merlin shook his head. “Nononononononono!” He snatched the device from Arthur’s hand. “You’re about to enter the relaxation zone. No mobiles allowed. I’ll take it back to your seat.” Arthur watched open-mouthed how that cartoon of a gay guy swayed his hips as he danced over to his seat and put the mobile down. 

He gasped when Merlin came back, put the chair into the right position and pushed a button that started a massage function. 

“Good, isn’t it?”

Arthur couldn’t object. He never thought much of those chairs, but it felt really good on the tight muscles in his lower back. 

“Just lean back, relax and let me work my magic.”

Even though Arthur couldn’t see Merlin now since he was standing behind him, he could hear him smile. The sooner they were done and over with this, the sooner he could get back to the office. 

When he felt the warm water, he closed his eyes. Gentle but determined fingers worked through his hair, getting it all wet. 

“Is the water temperature okay for you, Arthur?”

Just a whisper, but it almost startled him. Was he imagining things or was the camp accent gone? “Yeah, fine. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know when something’s not right.”

“Fine.”

The water stopped and the smell of shampoo filled Arthur’s nostrils as he heard Merlin working up a thick lather before gently putting it in his hair. But he didn’t only wash the hair, he massaged Arthur’s head and neck and despite himself, Arthur started to relax. Those long strong fingers really did magic, finding all the spots that needed soothing. For a moment, he wondered what those fingers could do on other parts of his body, but before he could question these thoughts, the water was turned on again and the foam washed out.

“You know what, Arthur?” Oh, Mr. Gay Posterboy was back, even though he spoke a lot more gentle than before. “I’ll put some deepening conditioner on, too. Your hair really needs it, it’ll work wonders, you’ll see. It needs to work for a few minutes and I’ll be back in no time.” 

Before Arthur could argue, the stuff was on his head. Oh well. He could relax for a few moments longer, right?

When Merlin came back and started to wash the conditioner off Arthur’s head, Arthur almost jumped. He’d been in such a deep state of relaxation that he was close to falling asleep. For almost ten minutes, he’d been able to shove all thoughts of meetings, contracts and negotiations out of his mind. 

A towel wrapped around Arthur’s head, Merlin ushered him over to his seat again, a kind smile on his face. “See what a difference ten minutes and good products can make?” He took the towel away and Arthur looked at himself in the mirror. There was nothing different about his hair, as far as he could see, but he had to admit that he looked less tired than before. 

“Okay,” Merlin was back with the comb and the scissors, gesturing with the scissors, “I’ve given this some thought. How about we’ll take a bit away in the back, will make you look a bit less…how do I put it…compact? But we’ll leave the length on top, if we cut that too short, your receding hairline will be too visible. It’s not too bad yet and with the right treatment it can be at least slowed down, but we won’t have you look older than you actually are.”

For most of Merlin’s speech, Arthur just watched in fascination how the scissors were being swung around and hoped he would catch the right moment to duck if they came too close to his head. But none of that happened and the one thing he caught was ‘receding hairline’. Oh, thank you very much. As if it wasn’t bad enough to lose your hair at the age of 29, did that bloke have to point it out, too?

“Would you be okay with that?” Merlin looked at him expectantly and not for the first time Arthur noticed the blue of his eyes. He took a deep breath. He was not into fairies. He liked his men tall and muscled and all male, not fluttering about, gesturing and talking as if they had a bad case of adenoids. He found that behavior disgusting. Especially since all the world seemed to think that this was the prototype of a homosexual man. And he should not be thinking about the prototype of all prototypes of fags – he was gay himself, he was allowed to use the word – having nice eyes or a wonderful smile or great hair, if it wasn’t piled up like that. 

“Err…yeah, just do what you have to do.” 

Actually he had planned to reach for his papers again to get some work done, but he settled for watching Merlin work. Small shivers ran down his spine every time Merlin touched his neck and more than once he had to close his eyes. The long fingers ran through his hair, cut little pieces off and wandered along to find the next strand that didn’t fit into the new haircut yet. Arthur was almost disappointed when Merlin declared “Done, let me get the hair dryer.”

And once again, he just used his fingers as he blow-dried Arthur’s hair. When he seemed to be content, he put the dryer aside and grabbed another little jar, smeared a dollop of white-ish stuff onto the palms of his hands and rubbed it into Arthur’s hair. “Just some wax,” he winked and plucked at one strand of hair or another. 

“Here you go, Arthur dear, even more gorgeous than before.” He held up a huge mirror so Arthur could see the back of his head. 

But Arthur just nodded. He was much too confused. So he grabbed his things as soon as the cloak came off, thanked Merlin and rushed to the counter to pay. He left a generous tip for Merlin, wished Freya a nice day and hurried back to his office. 

 

Arthur sat at his desk and just stared into space instead of finally preparing for the meeting, wondering what had just happened. He had just gone to get a haircut. Something you had to do once in a while if you didn’t want to look like a hippie. Usually, he went over papers and made a few calls while some faceless, nameless person worked on his hair. But now…this Merlin bloke had managed to make him relax for the first time in…Arthur couldn’t even remember if he had ever been this relaxed. And those damn long fingers, the blue eyes, the contagious smile…aside from the fact that Arthur hated queens like him…oh, he wasn’t half bad. 

Lance stuck his head in. “Ready to face the enemy, Arthur?”

“Wha…? Oh, sure, come on in, I’ll need a moment.” Arthur jumped up and collected some papers from his desk and stuffed them into a folder. He grabbed his favorite pen and gave Lance a shaky smile. “Let’s nail this deal.”

Lance gave him a sideways look. 

“What?”

“There’s something different about you. New tie? Different kind of shirt? Have we seen this suit before? You look really smart today.” Lance smiled.

“Just got my hair cut over lunch. Thanks.” Without even noticing, Arthur walked a bit straighter. Maybe that Merlin bloke really knew what he was doing?


	2. 2/7

Arthur forgot about his trip to the salon and only remembered when Mithian, his PA, pointed out that it probably was time for another haircut. He didn’t mind. Since Arthur usually forgot about these things, he had instructed Mithy to tell him when his hair was too long. But for the first time ever, he wasn’t annoyed about the waste of time but looking forward to it. He cleared two hours in his schedule and told Mithy to make an appointment with Merlin. 

This time, instead of all black clothes, a huge mop of black hair, nail polish and eyeliner, Merlin greeted him in skinny jeans and a white sleeveless t-shirt that showed off broad shoulders and muscles that Arthur had never thought were there. His hair was of an almost white blond and Arthur nearly hadn’t recognized him if it weren’t for the exuberant “ARTHUR! Sweetheart, you’re back!”

The procedure was almost the same, Merlin babbling about this and that, making him agree to stuff he never thought he wanted (some hair cure thing that needed to work under one of those huge heat thingies Arthur didn’t even have the vocabulary for) and calling him all kinds of pet names. But once again he managed to make Arthur more relaxed than ever and instead of checking his watch every five minutes and thinking of the work he still had to do, Arthur sighed as those strong fingers worked on his scalp. He didn’t mind that the whole procedure took longer than the last time, every touch of that outrageous bloke was a present. 

“You know, Arthur,” Merlin exclaimed while he was putting the finishing touches on, “I don’t want to be too forward,” ha, understatement of the year, everything about Merlin was too forward, “but if you could make time in your busy schedule a bit more often,” he leaned forward and winked, “I could spent a lot more time with you,” – Arthur chuckled at that – “and it would do wonders for your hair.”

Arthur didn’t know if that amused or disappointed him. Merlin was hilarious in his overly big gestures and exclamations and he definitely knew what he was doing. But did Arthur really want to spend more time with a man like this? No, he decided. Merlin was fun – every four to six weeks when he needed to get his hair done. But having someone like this around you all the time? Just…no. 

“I really can’t make appointments in advance. There is too much going on, I’ll call when the need arises.” He shook Merlin’s hand in thanks.

Merlin held on for just a moment longer, brushing the pad of his thumb over the back of Arthur’s hand and winked. “Call me any time…the need arises.” 

Arthur was still chuckling as he entered the company again, not noticing the astonished looks and raised eyebrows his behavior triggered in his employees.


	3. 3/7

The next time, Mithy mentioned a haircut, Arthur was all for it. He checked his schedule, found two hours that he had planned on working on a concept for something and just told Mithy to cancel on Lance. He grabbed his coat and left his office, his mood lifting as the elevator brought him to ground floor. 

Crossing the street, he already checked the patrons of the salon through the huge windows, but couldn’t make out Merlin. He was probably tending to a customer in the room with the sinks or mixing some color or something in the little room he referred to as ‘lab’. 

Freya’s face fell when she saw him. “Arthur!”

“Hi Freya, my hair…it needs a little trimming. Is Merlin available?” He smiled warmly at her.

“I’m so sorry, Arthur. Did you have an appointment? I can’t imagine that Merlin would forget about that.” Hectically she checked the appointment book. 

“No, I just decided I needed a haircut. He didn’t know that I was on my way over. So…he’s not here?” A strange feeling floated through Arthur’s stomach. 

“Sorry. He had some errands to run and left about an hour ago. He won’t be back today. Would you like to come back tomorrow?” She looked at him with large brown eyes that reminded him of one of those wood animals from Disney’s Bambi that he had to watch with his nephew the other day. 

Yes, he wanted to shout, but Mithy had been right, he needed his hair done before he boarded a plane for some adjustments in the new plants in China tomorrow. “Oh, I can’t.” Even though he wanted to. “Would anyone else have time for me?”

“Leon?” Freya shouted over the howling of hair dryers.

A very tall bloke with wild curls that were dyed purple at the ends showed up. “Freya?”

“Would you have time for Arthur? Wash, conditioner, cut, blow and go?”

The friendly face with at least three days worth of stubble – dyed just as purple as the tips of his curls - pulled into an amused grin. “I always make time for a guy who wants to be blown, especially if he’s such a looker. Follow me, young man.”

Arthur turned for a moment to hang his coat up and held his breath. Was it a requirement to be a fairy to work here? But hey, he needed a haircut and that was all there was to it, right? So he followed Leon and went through the procedure of explaining what Merlin had told him was good for his hair. 

“Merlin…you’re…you’re _that_ Arthur? Merlin’s Arthur?” Leon’s eyes that only had a hint of eyeliner went wide. 

“Merlin’s Arthur?” Arthur’s eyebrows shot up. “I wasn’t aware that I belonged to anyone. But Merlin did my hair the last couple of times, yes.”

“Oh…,” Leon gestured, “don’t think anything about it. He just talks about you constantly. And he’s so right, you’re gorgeous and your hair is golden silk.” He got up to get one of the black cloaks. “But don’t mind me, I’m just a babbling old queen, what do I know.”

So Leon did his job and even though he did the same things that Merlin would have done, it just felt different. And most of the time, Arthur was preoccupied with thinking about what Leon had said. Merlin talked about him all the time? He’d only been here two or three times. It wasn’t as if they knew each other. And that he thought he was gorgeous? Arthur had never given that much thought. He was pleased that he wasn’t some Quasi Modo and could pull at a club any time, even though he was nearing 30, but gorgeous? No way, he was just average. Golden silk? Was that a polite way of saying that his blond hair was on the thin side? 

“I hope I could live up to Merlin,” Leon said when he removed the cloak later. “I’ll tell him that you were here. I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to have missed you.”

They shook hands and Arthur almost pulled back in surprise. For a bloke this tall, Leon’s handshake was slack and weak. 

“Thank you so much.” Of course he left a generous tip for Leon, too, and made his way back to the office. All afternoon long he tried to concentrate on his project, but the feeling of having missed out on something nagged in the back of his mind constantly.


	4. 4/7

Mithian entered his office just as Arthur stood at the sink that was usually hidden behind doors that looked like just another file cabinet and inspected his hair. 

“It looks dull,” he said more to his reflection in the mirror than to Mithian and didn’t notice the grin she tried to hide. 

“Should I make an appointment with Merlin for you, Arthur?”

“Yeah, do that.” Okay, that might have come out a bit too enthusiastic, but Arthur shrugged mentally, what did he care what his secretary thought?

When he entered the salon, Merlin greeted him with a wide smile, a hug and kisses left and right. “Arthur! Remorsefully crawling back to me, how sweet!”

Arthur was still busy taking in Merlin’s bright red hair that was shorter than he’d ever seen on him before, the matching red shirt and the white jeans. This bloke changed styles more often than Arthur could even say ‘style’. 

“I hope Leon was a worthy substitute,” Merlin chanted while he ushered Arthur to his seat. “Let me take a look at what he’s done.”

Before Arthur could utter a sound, Merlin had his fingers in his hair again, checking whatever and hmm-ed and uh huh-ed. 

“Will he live?” 

“I think so, yes, not bad, not bad at all. What are we going to do today?” Blue eyes sparkling with amusement met Arthur’s in the mirror. 

“I…I don’t know. I’ve been to China for two weeks and I think the water and weather there didn’t do anything for my hair. It looks so…” Arthur felt stupid. He wasn’t some kind of girl who had no other topic but hair and fingernails. 

Merlin had already dished out a giant book. “I know what you mean. How about…,” he opened a page and Arthur saw strands of hair in different colors, “some highlights?”

“Highlights…,” he echoed.

“Yeah,” Merlin’s fingers slid over the different strands, “how about this one? Just slightly lighter than your own hair. It’ll just look like you’ve been kissed by the sun, everybody will notice that it looks great but nobody will find out about our little secret.” Merlin smiled at him and his eyes crinkled up. 

Arthur held his breath for a moment. Highlights? If it meant spending more time here and feeling those fingers in his hair for a while longer, he’d have agreed to having his hair dyed pink. Why was he entertaining thoughts like that? Probably because nobody had touched him in a long time, his busy schedule just didn’t leave time for that. But he was here to get his hair done. Focus, Arthur. “Okay.”

Merlin smiled a little mischievous smile. “Fantastic, you’ll love it when we’re done. Let me get busy with the colors. Freya will bring you a tea, okay? I’ve discovered this new herbal tea, you just have to try. It’ll make a whole new man out of you!”

With that, Merlin had flitted away and Freya chuckled as she set a cup of tea in front of Arthur.

“Actually, I’m more of a coffee person.” Arthur eyed the green water in the cup.

“Merlin thinks that caffeine stresses you out too much. Just try the tea, it isn’t half bad.” She winked at him and was gone again.

Before Arthur could ponder why Merlin thought about his caffeine habits and found it necessary to discuss them with Freya, the man was back with the now familiar black cloak that he fastened around Arthur’s neck. The way he put on some plastic gloves send thrills down Arthur’s spine. He’d never thought himself as kinky, so he took a sip of the tea to hide his confusion. 

“All right, all covered up. Ready for me to go in? Just relax and trust me.” Merlin wriggled his eyebrows. “I know what I’m doing.”

Arthur had never spent that much time at a salon. But he found it fascinating to watch how Merlin found little strands of his hair, put purple looking color on them and wrapped them with aluminum foil. He looked so ridiculous with all that foil on his head that he couldn’t resist snapping a photo with his mobile while the color had to do its work.

“Taking photos for your boyfriend?” Merlin just passed and checked the progress.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” It was out before Arthur even thought about it. Nobody really knew that he was gay. Well, Lance knew and Percy did, too, and Gwaine of course. And he suspected that his sister knew, but she never mentioned it. 

“Good!” Merlin’s face lit up. 

And if I had one, it wouldn’t be a fairy. He’d be tall with muscles and long fingers and blue eyes and a wonderful smile and I wouldn’t even mind the gigantic ears. Arthur blushed. He had not just thought that, had he?

“Color will be done in a minute, sweetheart.” Merlin bounced away again. 

That quirky odd strange ridiculous barber with the chichi accent…what was the correct term these days? Hair artist? Humbug!...so didn’t fit his picture of a suitable partner. 

“What’s wrong with you today, darling?” Merlin led him over to the sinks and Arthur startled at the massage function of the chair. “You’re jumpy, unfocussed and not really here at all. I thought we had a deal that you relax while you’re in my realm?”

“Nothing…it’s nothing.” Arthur blew out a deep breath. 

Merlin put a hand into his hip and studied him. “It’s not nothing, I know that much. But,” he threw him a flirty little look, “a boy is entitled to have his secrets. Let me get another towel and I’ll be right with you again.”

Arthur tried not to look too thrilled when Merlin was back and gently pulled the foil stuff off his hair. It felt really odd, but liberating. 

“Mmmhmmmm.”

“What?” Alarmed, Arthur almost sat up.

“Stay here, pumpkin pie.” Merlin reached for his shoulder and pulled him back. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just _really_ like how it turned out. You’ll turn more than just a few heads, I promise you this!” With that Merlin put more stuff on Arthur’s hair, washed it out again and again until Arthur stopped counting and only concentrated on the long fingers and the slight pressure that went along with the expert massage. Of course, his mind wandered again and his imagination ran wild with what those fingers could do to him. 

“Arthur?” A whisper close to his ear.

“Hmmm?”

“We’re done here, you can go back to your seat.”

When Merlin was done, all the while babbling about how wonderful Arthur looked with the highlights, Arthur finally looked into the mirror. He had to admit that Merlin had done wonders. He’d seen his fair share of horrible dye jobs in the clubs – back when he was out there on a regular basis, long before he had to take over as CEO of Pendragon Industries – but this was great. Nobody would even notice that he’d had something done and yet he looked more vibrant and at least five years younger. 

Merlin looked at him expectantly.

“Marvelous!” Oy, obviously he’d spent too much time at the salon. The rainbow-colored vocabulary was flowing a bit too easily over his lips. 

But the wide smile showed him that he had said the right thing. Merlin was practically beaming. 

“Thank you.” Arthur held out his hand and gasped when Merlin grabbed his shoulders and kissed him left and right.

“Go, be fabulous, Arthur. Find yourself a little joy in life.”

What the heck did Merlin mean by saying that? Arthur still pondered hours later while he pretended to be brooding over a complicated contract.


	5. 5/7

Pulling his Ipad out, Arthur frowned. He had been looking forward to being back in ‘Merlin’s realm’ – he’d only noticed that the salon was called ‘Avalon’ a few days back – as Merlin usually called it. But there was something off with these calculations and he needed to find the mistake quickly since he had a phone conference in the evening. He was so engrossed in his calculations that he didn’t even notice that Merlin looked over his shoulder after they’d gone through the process of shampoo and conditioner. 

He had greeted him with the now-tradition kiss left, kiss right and ushered him to his seat, bringing a cup of this odd – yet another new – tea, Arthur hadn’t listened and didn’t know what it was, but it had a purple, almost blue-ish color and then busying himself with getting his utensils ready. Usually this was the time Arthur started to relax, but he was tense now. This had to be done. And when he noticed Merlin looking at his file, he jumped.

“Merlin?” He was about to start about how impolite it was to read someone’s personal files and that this was a business related thing and that it wasn’t Merlin’s business at all!

“You know that this calculation here is faulty?” Merlin asked, a concentrated frown on his forehead, the camp accent gone. 

Arthur turned his head and looked at him for the first time that day. He didn’t know what astonished him more: The yet again new look – and what a good look that was for Merlin, all 50s style with grey pants, a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, suspenders and a black bowtie, his hair done in the same way, it was all black again, very short in the back and on the sides, a bit longer on top. This featured his huge sticking out ears prominently and for some odd reason it brought out the color of his eyes even more. Or the fact that Merlin found the mistake in this thing. 

Arthur stared. He was so blown away by the way Merlin looked that he didn’t notice the missing accent as Merlin pointed to his Ipad and explained why he thought that some of the figures were put into the calculation in the wrong way. 

When their eyes met, this time not in the mirror, a scared look ran over Merlin’s face before he caught himself. “Oh, but what do I know?” The accent was back, he smiled widely and gestured with his hand. “Let me get my scissors and I’ll be back with you in a flash!”

He did Arthur’s hair quietly and Arthur threw him little looks. Merlin had been absolutely right about the numbers in his report. It wasn’t that there was a simple mistake in adding, some of them had been put in the wrong context. As soon as he put them in the right places, the calculation made perfect sense, but…he looked at Merlin in wonder…what would a simple hair stylist know about high finance? 

When his hair was done, Merlin said his good-bye a bit quieter than usual and pretended to have to deal with the next customer.

Leon – his curls were a bright green this time, as was his beard and his mascara – was chatting with Freya as Arthur stepped up to pay. He still threw Merlin looks, not sure what to make of it. 

“What’s troubling you, Arthur dear?” Leon ran a hand through his hair, the international sign of flirting. 

“It’s just…”

Freya swiped his credit card through the machine and followed his gaze. She smiled softly. “You know, Arthur, there’s more to our Merlin than he lets show most of the time.”

Before Arthur could press the topic, the phone rang and she handed him his card and receipt back while answering the call. Leon helped him into his coat and held the door open for him, leaning against it and waving after him. 

The phone conference would have been a disaster if it hadn’t been for Lance saving the day. Arthur’s thoughts constantly wandered back to Merlin, the way he had looked…almost…normal and the way he sounded without that camp accent, the deep voice that had rolled over Arthur like waves at the ocean, the little…what was it?...Welsh?... way of pronouncing words? And how he had taken one look at a paper that he, CEO of Pendragon Industries had messed up and immediately knew what was wrong with it. 

Lance nailed the contract they were aiming for while Arthur couldn’t get over what Freya had said; that there was more to Merlin than he let people see. Which let him to ponder only one question: Who was the real Merlin?


	6. 6/7

“So this bloke…he does your hair?” Gwaine asked as he tied up his boots. 

Arthur had finally found the time to play some soccer with his mates in the park on Saturday morning, a simple pleasure he more often than not neglected in favor of leading a huge company. But in the past three days, Gwaine had called him every hour and sent a text every thirty minutes and after Lance had insisted he’d come over, Arthur had tossed a few things in a sports bag and had taken the tube (no way was he going to disturb his chauffeur’s weekend if it wasn’t an emergency or an official function!) to the soccer field they occupied on Saturday mornings. 

When he’d woken up that morning, he had almost felt giddy. It had been too long, he needed to work out some more. And not only doing endless runs on the treadmill while he was going over some papers or on the phone with some business partner in the States or Australia. He loved chasing that little black and white leather ball and hadn’t done it for ages. So he had arrived a bit early and Gwaine had pulled him into a hug. 

One look at Arthur’s face and Gwaine had started asking questions. Sharing a room at university also meant spending a lot of time together and Gwaine knew him better than most anyone. “Uh oh…boy trouble,” he’d started and by now had coaxed the information about Merlin out of him. 

“Yes, Gwaine, he’s doing my hair. And you have to admit that it looks better than ever.” Arthur pulled the zipper of his hoodie down. 

“Hmm…not as good as mine, but good enough for you.” Gwaine winked. 

Playfully kicking at Gwaine’s shin, Arthur sat down to put his own shin guards on. “Better than ever,” he insisted. 

“Yeah, but that’s not really a good reason to fall for your stylist.” 

“I didn’t fall for my stylist!” Arthur frowned. When Gwaine put it that way, it…it oddly made sense, but Arthur sure wouldn’t tell him that!

“Okay, okay,” Gwaine raised his hands in defense, “but you’re interested.”

“Kind of.”

“In a fairy.” 

“I…,” Arthur looked up and worried his lower lip before taking a deep breath, “I don’t think he really is one.”

“So he’s not gay?” Gwaine put both fists on his hips in his famous holy-shit Batman! Robin imitation. 

“Oh, I think he is.”

“And he knows that you are?” 

“I don’t know.”

Gwaine sat on the bench next to Arthur. “There are more people out there who know than you think. And you know about our special gaydar. If he’s as queer as he pretends to be, he will have noticed.”

Arthur said nothing. It was all too confusing. 

“Hypothetically speaking…he’s gay and he’s interested…and you like him more than you are willing to admit…what’s keeping you?”

“He’s…damn,” Arthur took another deep breath and looked at Gwaine, “before this last appointment, I’d have said because he’s a fairy. I can’t be with someone like that. Just not appropriate. But now…Gwaine, I swear his accent was gone when he explained high finance to me! To _ME_ , Gwaine!”

“So you think he isn’t who he pretends to be.”

“I don’t know what to think. One moment, in my mind, he’s the bloke with the ridiculous white blond fake Mohawk, the next, he’s the serious business man.”

“And every night you wank over the image of him having you on your back, fucking you within an inch of your life.” Gwaine laughed and got up. “Come on, Princess, let’s chase that little leather ball for a while. Maybe your brain will be ventilated enough then to make a decision.”

Sighing, Arthur got up and followed Gwaine over to where the other blokes already waited for them. Maybe Gwaine was right. A good work-out was probably all he needed. 

About an hour later, his jersey clung to his chest and back and the muscles in his legs started to hurt, Arthur was still trying to score again. It was just too much fun to see Percy, a mountain of a guy, flying across his goal in an attempt to pluck the ball out of the air and not succeeding. 

All of a sudden, a golden retriever overtook him from the right, chasing after the ball he just kicked a bit ahead to make more space. 

“Lady! Here!” 

Arthur didn’t know if he should be annoyed that someone didn’t have their dog under control or laugh because the dog obviously had the time of its life, pushing the ball around grown men’s legs and heading straight for the goal. Everybody tried to catch the dog and/or the ball and Elyan ended up flat on his face in the dirt. 

When the dog managed to shove the ball through Percy’s legs and behind the line, Arthur raised his arms in triumph. “GOAL! And the scorer is…Lady!”

Now, the dog had grabbed the ball with its teeth and ran over to him, wagging its tail, totally ignoring it’s owner, who had run onto the field, too. 

“Lady!” He scolded. “I’m so sorry, gentlemen. She’s usually not like that, I don’t even know what made her do this. Of course I’ll pay for the ball.”

As the dog put the ball in front of Arthur’s feet and looked at him expectantly, Arthur didn’t have eyes for the animal. That voice…too familiar… He turned and was faced with…Merlin.


	7. 7/7

Staring open-mouthed, Arthur took in Merlin’s appearance. There was no make-up, no eyeliner, no jewelry, no out-crying colors. Merlin was in jeans, runners, a blue t-shirt and a zipped hoodie that had seen better days. And the nasal accent was gone. 

“Arthur.” Merlin just stared back but then seemed to find his vocabulary again. “Listen, I’m really sorry. I’ll replace the ball. She never did that before. Of course she likes playing, but she’s never run after a ball and we’ve been here many times before.”

Nobody in the team was angry, they were all still too busy laughing about what had happened and everybody wanted to pat the dog, who made friends with each of them easily. 

But Arthur still just looked at Merlin. “Who are you?”

“I’m…Arthur, I’m Merlin, the bloke who does your hair.” The disarming smile and the shrug with the palms-up hands came a bit too forced.

“I know that you’re the one who does my hair. But…who are you really?”

Merlin’s smile faltered and he took a deep breath. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

 

A while later, they were seated in a booth in one of the small diners across the park’s entrance that allowed dogs and stared at the red checkered table cloth. Arthur had taken a quick shower and was in an attire rather similar to Merlin’s now. As soon as he had shoved his sports bag under the table, Lady had taken to inspecting it closely before lying down and using it as a pillow, her butt firmly planted on Arthur’s feet. 

The waitress came over, already carrying a bowl of water for Lady. “What can I get for you boys?” She pulled a pencil from behind her ear and clutched her little notepad. 

They ordered some coke and tried to buy time with asking questions about one dish or the other before settling on burgers – with cheese for Arthur, without for Merlin.

“So,” Arthur started, but then ran out of words. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. This Merlin was even hotter than the one he knew from the salon. But what did all of this mean? Did Merlin have a split personality? Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?

“Arthur,” Merlin looked up. “I’m sorry. I should have gotten this right from the beginning. But how could I know that I would start to like you?”

Blinking at that, Arthur tried to calm his heart beat down a bit that had quickened up at those words. Merlin liked him? “I…I’d like to like you, too. But I don’t have the feeling I know who you are.”

Their drinks were being served and Merlin took a sip before he extended his hand. 

Arthur automatically took it and enjoyed Merlin’s strong handshake.

“Hi, I’m Merlin Emrys, the owner of the Avalon salons.”

“Owner…” Arthur echoed, which was a thing Merlin seemed to make him do quite often.

Merlin nodded as he slowly let go of Arthur’s hand. “Yes. There are four Avalons across town at this point in time and the fifth is about to open in three months.”

“But…”

“That doesn’t explain why I’m,” the camp accent was put into place again, “like this at work.” He made one of these huge gestures that made Arthur chuckle as he nodded. 

“That’s easy. But…let me start at the beginning. When I started working in a salon, people automatically thought I was gay. Which I was, still am, don’t worry.” He smiled at the look on Arthur’s face. “But somehow…they don’t take you serious if you are just a male hair stylist. You have to be the really gay bloke, the one with the huge gestures, the nasal voice and the outrageous outfits.”

“You’re good with those.” Arthur sipped his drink.

Merlin laughed. “I am, ain’t I? I didn’t study fashion design for nothing.”

“You…you studied?”

“Yeah,” Merlin smiled widely at the waitress who shoved huge plates with burgers and chips in front of them. “I have an MBA, a degree in literature and studied fashion design for four semesters before opening my first salon.”

Arthur had just been about to shove a chip into his mouth when Merlin declared this and stopped in mid-motion, looking utterly stupid with his mouth open and a chip half in it. 

“Your face might freeze like that if you’re not careful.” Merlin winked.

“You…have several degrees from universities? But…”

“But why do I cut hair for a living?” Merlin took a bite of his burger.

“Yeah. I mean…it totally threw me when you just took one look at my file and found the mistake I had been searching for for hours.”

“Maybe that was the issue? You worked on it for so long that you didn’t see the forest for the trees?” 

That was probably right. But it still didn’t explain why Merlin, who was obviously a lot cleverer than he wanted people to know, did such a lowly job as cutting other people’s hair.

“And to answer the question: I just love it.” Merlin shrugged. “As much as I like having studied business administration – wouldn’t want to miss that time for anything in the world – and literature, it bored me out of my mind to sit in an office, shoving numbers from one side to the other. I need to work with people. And I can still use my knowledge to run my business.”

“But…it’s quite a leap from ‘working with people’ to cutting hair. So…why that?”

Merlin grinned and his eyes twinkled. “Because I’m good at it?”

“And you really like that?” Arthur couldn’t believe it. This bloke was close to brilliant, it seemed such a waste of talent to just cut hair.

“Love it. Look, it’s not just cutting hair. You have to know a lot about the chemistry that’s connected to it. Remember Leon’s green hair? That was actually an accident of our apprentice. She miscalculated the formula of the dye and instead of light blond, Leon turned green.” He chuckled. “He made the best out of it, he’s a good bloke.”

Arthur forgot to eat. He really wanted to know about the charade Merlin was playing. 

“And there’s a lot of psychology, too. You learn a lot about people, they tell you things. Sometimes you’re the only person they have to talk to. You learn from them and sometimes they learn a bit from you, too.”

When he saw Arthur’s raised eyebrow, Merlin smiled softly. “You learned to let go and relax for a short while, didn’t you?”

Arthur had to give him that and nodded. “What did you learn about me?”

Leaning back, Merlin shoved some chips into his mouth and chewed slowly. “When you first came in, you were completely stressed out. The only thing in your life was work – and I reckon it still is. You were all tight and wound up. The way you were dressed showed me you were one of the big-shots of the company tower across the street. Of course I didn’t know how big you really were at the time. I just knew I needed to do anything I could to pull you out of your world and let you see that there is something else. If only for that hour while you were in my place.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “So you know who I am?”

“Of course. Freya showed me your picture in one of the magazines we have lying about for the customers to read. Arthur Pendragon, CEO of Pendragon Industries.” 

Usually when people found out who he was, they immediately wanted something from him. A job, business advice, money. But Merlin had known who he was and still had wanted to do something for him. Not because he paid him for it, he only ever paid for the haircut. And he pointed out his position in the business world as if he’d announced that the weather would change over the weekend or the Northern Line once again didn’t run, as if he wasn’t anything special because of that. Only old friends ever treated him like that, people who had known him from before his father’s too-soon death, the point in time where he had to take over the family business. That someone who he’d just met did it…that was new. 

“And it doesn’t…I don’t know…bother you?”

“What?” Now Merlin’s eyebrow shot up. “That you’re a wealthy prat?”

“I’m a what?”

“Oh,” Merlin smiled again, “you’ve changed a bit since we met. First you were all ‘yeah, yeah, get working so I can get back to stuff that’s so much more important than your little lives’.”

Ouch, that stung. But thinking back to that first time he’d walked into Merlin’s place…yup, that was about right. 

“But you’ve loosened up, you acknowledged that other people know their trade, too. And you’ve started to let go in our presence. You allow others to take over for a little while.” Merlin smiled again and took another big bite out of his burger. 

Arthur didn’t have much appetite. This was just as confusing as the other revelations Merlin had had for him. Maybe a change of topic would help, so he came back to “But why the act? Why do you pretend to be Mr. Queer London when you’re working?”

“Are you always who you really are when you’re negotiating big deals?” Merlin looked at him sternly but then burst out laughing. “The tips are just so much better, man. You wouldn’t believe it! If people knew I was the owner than just a rather normal bloke, I couldn’t take my employees out for dinner once a month and we couldn’t go to an event once a year.”

“You’re…you’re using your tips to buy dinner for your people and take them to events?” 

“Sure, why not? They’re a great bunch of people and we always have a ball at concerts or the movies or wherever we go.”

Arthur looked at Merlin for a long time, first shaking his head slightly and then with a fond smile. “Now that I know your reasons – and start to understand them – I think…”

“You think too much, Arthur.” 

“…I like you.”

The wonderful huge smile that crinkled up Merlin’s eyes was back. “Good.”

“Good?” Arthur was set aback. Good? Just…good?

Nodding, Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s where it lay on the table. “Good, because I like you, too.”

Arthur laughed as he shook his head and entwined his fingers with Merlin’s. “You’re an odd one.”

“Yup, that I am. And to make things even odder…what would you say if I asked to buy you a beer tonight when we go to a club? Would you reject ‘Mr. Queer London’ if he showed up in normal clothes?”

“No I wouldn’t,” Arthur smiled and felt giddy. He hadn’t had a date in years, this made him feel like a teenager again. 

Merlin grinned. “Anyway, we should get going. I need to find a babysitter for Lady for tonight.”

They gathered their stuff and made their way back to the park. After Merlin unleashed Lady after insisting that she please not chase after innocent footballs any more, he slung the leash around his neck and took Arthur’s hand. 

They walked in silence for a while, mostly watching the dog running back and forth, chasing leaves and having fun and soon they reached the park entrance at the other side where Arthur had to get his tube. They stood close, the mutual attraction almost tangible, Merlin leaned in and brushed his lips against Arthur’s. That simple touch ran through Arthur like an electrical current. But before he could drop his sports bag, wrap his arms around Merlin and kiss back, Merlin had already pulled back. 

Slowly he let go of Arthur and then winked. “There’s more of this where this came from.”

Arthur groaned at the promise.

“And you know…”

He looked expectantly at Merlin.

“If you need someone to do your hair for tonight…”

Arthur was grinning all the way back to his place.


End file.
